At Death's Door
by Polly Little
Summary: "DESCRIBE, USING DIAGRAMS WHERE APPROPRIATE, THE EXACT CIRCUMSTANCES LEADING TO YOUR DEATH." Will really doesn't like the new security system in the Underworld. Solangelo oneshot.


At Death's Door

"DESCRIBE, USING DIAGRAMS WHERE APPROPRIATE, THE EXACT CIRCUMSTANCES LEADING TO YOUR DEATH."

Will didn't know who had installed the new security system in the Underworld, but it was fairly obvious who had designed it. Blunt, accidentally patronising, and far too loud; all words that could easily be applied to both his boyfriend and that blasted self-registration screen – even the afterlife had irritating new technology, apparently. Unfortunately, Nico didn't seem to have considered that maybe there would be outliers in the plan he'd drawn up for visitors, with "ATE MY WEIGHT IN PLASTICINE", "TIED TO MY OWN CANNON", and "ZEUS" all perfectly viable options, but not "I'M NOT DEAD, I JUST CAME TO SEE IF YOU WANTED TO WATCH A MOVIE ON SATURDAY".

A cool wind blew around the draughty cave he was standing in, shaking the stalactites and howling mournfully around the stalagmites. The skeleton manning the now redundant reception desk pulled his peaked black cap further down his gleaming white skull, and attempted to scowl. This was a little hard to see, as he had no face, but he'd assured Will he was scowling five minutes ago, so he probably still was.

"Well, what's it to be, kid?" The skeleton rattled in a voice like a collapsing marble run. "You ain't got all day, you know - some of us have afterlives to get back to. Two options, yer dead or yer ain't."

"Sorry, I just," Will began to explain himself, then stopped, realising the skeleton was right. There was really only two options, wasn't there? He laughed awkwardly, then started to scroll up the list to the HOME button.

"Well, sunshine? Dead or yer ain't, what's it to be? Don't tell me yer a zombie, we had a horde of 'em through 'ere last week and I still ain't got the stains out. Nasty slime suckers, drag the name of undead through the mud." The skeleton began to rap his knuckles on the desk, and Will watched in horrified fascination as one pinged off the brass name plate and skittered under the table. "I've only finished sorting out one lot when another one turn up and starts to eat the furniture. Zombies! Pah!"

"'Scuse me," he muttered as he bent down to reattach his finger, although the tone of voice suggested he couldn't care less if he was excused, and in any case, _he_ ought to be excusing _you_ for interrupting _him_.

"Yer don't look much like a zombie though," he continued, slightly muffled by the wood before he sat up to continue. "A bit too clever."

Somehow, he managed to make it sound like an insult, even without the expected "not by much".

"Yer ain't a ghost, either - I saw yer trip over that step. A ghost would've gone straight through, wouldn't've even noticed. No boy, yer different," he said accusingly, wagging his newly reattached finger in Will's face, before it fell off again, and he had to dive after it (along with some swear words that would make a harpy blush). "What are yer?"

"I'm a demigod," Will said, as he helped the skeleton to his feet.

"Demigod, eh? That's a new one." He briskly re-straightened his cap, and grabbed Will's hand in a firm but knobbly handshake. "The name's Grant, Grant Lister. I'm the lucky fool who's ended up as doorman fer this… lovely place."

"Will Solace," he supplied, trying not to wince when he felt his knuckles crack. "I'm _supposed_ to be visiting my boyfriend."

Supposed to be. Instead, he was literally at Death's Door, listening to a belligerent old skeleton complain about zombies staining the upholstery.

The skeleton – Grant, he reminded himself – sucked in a low whistling breath over his teeth with his nonexistent lungs. "That could be difficult. It's against protocol to let the living in."

"I know, but -" Will then discovered first hand how hard it was to talk with a mouth full of fingerbone.

"No buts," the skeleton interrupted. "There's no justice, only me. And I say it's against protocol."

Of course he did. Will wilted. By the time he saw Nico, it would be Saturday already, and the movie would be sold out. True, they could probably shadowtravel to another cinema, but then it would be less his treat, and more him badgering Nico into spending time with him.

"What's this about protocol?" Asked a familiar voice from directly behind them. Will spat out the hand in surprise. He was getting good at sneaking up on people; he hadn't even heard him arrive.

"Can't let 'im in," Grant said promptly. "'e's living."

"I can see that," Nico ran a hand through his gorgeous shaggy black curls, and Will's stomach did a somersault. "And you didn't think to call me because…?"

"I 'ad to make sure 'e weren't a zombie," the skeleton said stubbornly. "We get all sorts down 'ere, could've been anything."

"The problem was your new security system," Will interrupted. "Why on earth is there an option for "ATE MY WEIGHT IN PLASTICINE" and not "LIVING VISITOR"?"

Nico shrugged. "You'd be surprised at which one's more common."

Will stood shaking his head at the idea. "The worrying thing is, I don't know if you're joking anymore."

The warm peal of laughter that rang 'round the cave at that was worth braving any number of confusing security systems.

 **A/n: Written for the First Sentence Contest on Caesar's palace, with "DESCRIBE, USING DIAGRAMS WHERE APPROPRIATE, THE EXACT CIRCUMSTANCES LEADING TO YOUR DEATH." from Red Dwarf, by Grant Naylor. Yes, that is who Grant the skeleton is named after, along with David Lister, the main character.**


End file.
